Bacon Caramel Murder Page 5

  “Just a piece of normal police procedure, I’m sure,” Sonja added, placing a hand on her shoulder.

  “I guess,” she shrugged, trying to steady a quivering lip.

  This poor woman, Sonja thought. She’d just spent yesterday complaining that she felt lonely and neglected as a wife. Now she had completely lost her husband altogether.

  “How did he get in contact with you?”

  “Called me on my cell phone. I was at home asleep in bed.”

  Sonja paused, wondering if this was the truth. She remembered seeing the red car out front the evening before.

  “You were at home asleep?”

  “Yes. I’d tried waiting for Packer, but finally went to bed around nine.”

  Sonja’s curiosity got the better of her, as it always did, and she decided to ask a few more questions. “Did you see your husband at all yesterday?”

  “Well, I saw him in the morning, of course. Then, I stopped by his office around six-thirty.”

  “That makes sense. I stopped by to see him last night and noticed your car, at least I assume it was yours. The plate said Cherry.”

  Cherry looked up at her with wide eyes. “You saw my car?”

  “It was parked right over there.” Sonja pointed to the exact spot.

  “I see,” she whispered.

  “I didn’t run into you, though. I thought you might be in your husband’s office with him.”

  Cherry rubbed her dry lips together in a nervous motion. “I was, only earlier. When I left, I went for a short walk around the playground over there to clear my head.” She pointed to the metal structure of monkey bars and slides.

  “You didn’t see anyone going in or out? Not even me?”

  Cherry paused a moment, thinking. “I did see that janitor fellow, the one who was fired for drinking on the job.”

  “No one else?”

  “I can’t say.” She hesitated on her next confession, clearly feeling awkward. “I was on the slide, just sitting there listening to the wind whistle through the dry leaves.”

  “Just sitting there? Why?”

  “Oh, Sonja, please don’t ask me. This is hard enough as it is.” Her eyes welled up with fresh tears.

  Vaguely remembering a time when she was young, Sonja had been upset about something and sat inside the slide on that very playground and cried. She wondered if Cherry had been just taking a moment to cry before driving away again.

  If that were true, what was she crying about?

  Had her husband done something hurtful or mean?

  “Okay, I won’t ask again. Frank will want to know, though,” she warned her.

  She looked down at her feet. “Things have been so difficult lately. I thought things couldn’t get any worse, but now this.”

  Instinctively, Sonja hugged the woman in a tight embrace. “I’m sorry. I know this must be very hard for you.”

  However, even as she comforted the woman, Sonja couldn’t help but wonder if Cherry’s marriage had been rocky enough for her to resort to murder.

  * * *

  “Maybe he was having an affair,” Alison suggested after hearing Sonja’s detailed retelling of the last day’s events. She stood over a row of eight travel cups with a carafe, slowly filling them with coffee for Sonja to take to the school.

  “An affair? You really think so?” Sonja asked while she stirred the large pot of cream heating on the stove. She had to keep an eye on it to make sure it only got hot, but didn’t boil.

  “Think about it. She was already feeling neglected. She goes to see him randomly at the office but ends up finding him with another woman. Now he’s dead.” She pointed at Sonja accidentally spilling a little coffee on the counter. “It was an affair.”

  “You think that she murdered her husband after finding out about the affair?”

  Ally set the carafe down and began putting lids on all the cups. “It’s possible, right?”

  Sonja couldn’t deny she was right, even if the idea was pretty far-fetched. “Yes, it’s possible, but Cherry seems like such a nice woman. I can’t honestly see it.”

  “It’s always the nice ones,” she remarked, loading the first two cups into the cardboard caddy.

  Sonja set a second saucepan on the stove and lit the flame. “Let’s just say you’re right. What about the mistress? If Cherry walked in on them, what happened to her?”

  Ally’s eyes got wide. “She could be the murderer, too.”

  Sonja added a little water and a lot of brown sugar to the newly heated pot and began to stir it, keeping an eye on the cream at the same time.

  “Maybe he decided to end the affair, realized he actually loved his wife. The next thing you know, the mistress shows up in a flurry of anger and murders him.”

  Sonja sighed. “But I didn’t see anyone else last night. There was only Decker the janitor and Cherry’s car.”

  “They could have snuck out past you.”

  The sugar was beginning to melt into the consistency of syrup. “You’re right, they could have, but it’s all just theories. Besides, according to Frank, the whole school building is locked up at night. Anyone going in or out would need to go through the front door, since it was the only one open.”

  “The killer snuck into the school earlier in the day and hid somewhere, like a closet or the basement, until nighttime to strike.”

  “And where did they go afterward? Most of the doors are chained shut after hours to prevent vandalism. You know that. It was the same when we were kids.”

  “Come on, Sonja. They don’t chain all the doors.”

  “Yes, they do. Frank told me.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe they went through a window.”

  “It would be difficult to get out, I think.”

  “They hid in the building and snuck out this morning?” Ally was grasping at straws now. Her whole theory about the affair was thin. She finished loading all the cups into two caddies and stacked them one atop the other.

  “Past the cops? They did a full sweep of the building, just in case something like that might have happened. I know Frank. He’s meticulous.”

  Ally shrugged. “He could have missed them.”

  Sonja groaned. All of this was becoming too much. She always enjoyed speculating, but Alison knew how to take it to the next level.

  The sugar had completely liquefied at that point and was ready for the next step. Lifting the pan carefully, she combined the syrup with the warm cream, mixing it until it turned a golden brown.

  “The real question is, who is the mistress?” Alison speculated.

  Adding the measured amount of salt into the pot along with a dash of vanilla, the large pot of caramel for the Harvest Festival that Friday was getting close to being done. It was easier to make it ahead of time, and it would store nicely in the fridge. “We don’t even know that there is a mistress.”

  “Sure, we can,” she exclaimed. “Maybe they were together in the office, making out and whatnot, and then Cherry caught them at it.”

  Sonja opened her mouth to argue again, but stopped when she remembered something about the crime scene from the night before. A quiet gasp escaped her throat.

  “What? Did you think of something?” Alison asked excitedly.

  “Maybe. There was a red splotch on the principal’s collar last night when I found him. I had assumed it was blood up until now.”

  Ally caught on quickly, snapping her fingers as the truth dawned on her. “Lipstick!”

  “Lipstick,” Sonja agreed.

  “Then I’m right. There is a mistress.”

  “Maybe, maybe not,” Sonja sighed. She struggled to think of who she’d seen wearing a deep shade of lipstick recently. It wasn’t an unpopular color, so she wasn’t sure how much this clue would help. Off the top of her head, however, she could think of three women she’d noticed wearing red lipstick: Tanya Sander, Donna Tankered, and Cherry Heins. “I don’t think it proves there was an affair. It just helps point the finger at Cherry Heins.�
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  CHAPTER 10

  * * *

  After delivering coffee to the school, Sonja spent the rest of her day planning a menu and preparing food for the upcoming Harvest Festival on Friday—wondering if the event was going to happen at all. However, it was better to be prepared. Having many of the ingredients put together ahead of time made the days leading up to the catering event all the easier.

  She had a full spread of delicious ideas prepared including mini waffles in various flavors—including the new bacon caramel dish—as well as candied acorns, apple-cinnamon cupcakes, pumpkin cookies, and hot chocolate.

  Donna had called to ask about the menu around twelve and offhandedly mentioned that she needed people to help with the decorating on Thursday night. Sonja volunteered to show up to the school gym and help hand up paper leaves in browns, golds, and reds.

  Sonja was so invested in her preparations that she’d nearly forgotten all about the murder at the school. With an upcoming festival, it hardly seemed like anything as horrible as a murder could have even occurred.

  It wasn’t until Sonja’s phone rang around four that she started thinking about it all again.

  “Hi, Frank,” she said, realizing just how exhausted she’d become from the day’s work. Leaning on the counter, she breathed a heavy sigh of relief at hearing his voice—giving her an excuse to take a break.

  “How does dinner sound tonight?” he asked, cutting to the chase.

  “Tonight? I thought you’d be swamped with work.”

  He let out a heavy breath and Sonja could almost feel how exhausted he was. “I’ve gotta take a break to eat sometime, and I thought seeing you would be refreshing after all the horrors of today.”

  “Horrors? Have things really been that bad?”

  “I promise to tell you about some of it if you’ll just agree to grab dinner with me.”

  She smiled. “Okay, you’re on.”

  “How does Indian sound?”

  “Delicious.”

  “Okay. I’ll pick you up at your place in an hour. Does that work?”

  “It does. See you then.” Hanging up, she removed her apron. She knew she looked like a mess so she’d go home and get cleaned up before he arrived.

  * * *

  Mother India was one of Frank and Sonja’s favorite places to eat. Sonja was in love with the little restaurant’s sweet rice pudding, and the curries weren’t so bad either. Upon arriving, they were promptly seated by the shop’s owner in a small brick alcove in the corner of the room.

  After both ordering water to drink, they finally settled in, able to relax for a moment.

  “I hope you didn’t get all dressed up for me,” Frank noted, examining his girlfriend’s makeup and nails. While she usually wasn’t much for make-up, and didn’t wear it most days, she did enjoy dressing up when she went out with Frank sometimes. She’d put on some dark brown eyeliner and mascara, a tiny touch of rouge, and a little lipstick.

  Ally had insisted upon dark red nail polish as well, which Sonja reluctantly agreed to wear.

  “Hey, sometimes a girl likes to feel pretty,” she admitted.

  Frank chuckled. “Don’t get me wrong, you look beautiful, but I really do enjoy your natural look just as much.”

  “If not more?” she teased. She was aware of Frank’s preferences after having dated for so long. She appreciated the fact that he didn’t want her to get all dolled up every single day—especially when she was just going to be working in a hot kitchen for hours on end.

  “I don’t want you going to all the trouble just for me, that’s all. I love you for you, not your makeup.”

  “You don’t like it?” she joked, reaching across the table and touched his hand.

  Smiling, he shook his head. “No, I like it.”

  “Then let me do it once in a while.”

  “Okay, but just remember that I didn’t ask you.”

  “And you prefer me without make-up,” she completed his thought.

  He had a sheepish look in his eyes. For a man who spent so much of his time dealing with crime and murder, there was a soft-hearted person inside.

  “So, speaking of make-up, Alison had a strange thought earlier today.”

  Frank picked up a piece of warm naan, oven baked leavened bread, from the basket on the table and took a bite. “What about?”

  “About the murder.”

  Frank made a scolding glance at her. “You really shouldn’t be gossiping about murder cases with other people.”

  “Is there a law against it?”

  “In some instances, yes.” He pointed at her and shook his finger.

  “Don’t shame me. I can’t help discussing it.”

  “Either way, what is Alison’s strange thought? I bet her theories are wilder than yours are.” He took another bite of the bread.

  “They can be,” Sonja agreed, taking a piece of naan for herself and spreading a little butter on it. She bit into it, suddenly realizing just how hungry she was. “Do you think it’s possible that Packer Heins was having an affair?”

  Frank raised an eyebrow. “How did we get from makeup, to Alison, to affairs?”

  “I noticed that red splotch of something on Packer’s collar when I found his body.”

  “You noticed that, huh?” he half complained.

  “Ally thought that, maybe, it was because someone was in his office with him before he died. A mistress perhaps.”

  “I suppose it is one theory, but we don’t have a whole lot of evidence pointing that direction at the moment.”

  “So, it’s just a theory,” she parroted the familiar dialogue they’d shared on multiple occasions.

  “Anyway, even if I had more evidence to prove he was seeing someone besides his wife, I couldn’t very well discuss it over dinner with you.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry for asking,” she apologized, taking another bite of the bread.

  “In any case, today was absolute chaos. Half the time we were trying to ward off all the middle schoolers who were all too interested in the crime scene. I had discussed canceling classes with the school board, but they were really pressing to keep everything as normal as possible. In the end, I relented.”

  “Sounds frustrating.”

  “On top of that, I barely got a statement out of Cherry Heins, she was so upset, and we were never able to locate Decker Partle.”

  Sonja thought about these two people, the most likely suspects for the crime, and wondered if Ally was right. Maybe someone else really had hidden themselves away inside the building.

  He sighed, shaking his head. Things had only gotten more complicated for him as the day wore on.

  “I’m sorry, Frank, really I am. Let’s promise not to talk about the case again for the rest of dinner.”

  “Truly?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Cross my heart.” She made an ‘x’ motion over her chest.

  “Thanks.”

  CHAPTER 11

  * * *

  After Frank dropped Sonja off at her cottage, she got to thinking about the favor he had asked her the day before. Despite the apparent childish nature of the prank played on Principal Heins, there had been a small question of supernatural involvement.

  Ever since Frank had learned of his girlfriend’s ability to communicate with the dead, he was often jumping at shadows. However, when something at work came up, he couldn’t in good conscience pass over the fact that ghosts were very real and often active in the small town of Haunted Falls.

  While he didn’t like it, he’d occasionally asked Sonja to feel out places and situations for any sign of paranormal presence.

  Of course, that didn’t give her free reign to interfere with cases.

  All he wanted was a straight answer. Was there a possibility of ghosts or not? Once that was addressed, he could generally move on with his work without consulting her again.

  It was his responsibility to make sure everything was up to police procedure.

  The
only issue was, ghosts often didn’t factor into that procedure.

  Sonja knew that if she asked Frank about doing a walkthrough of the school, he’d flat out say no. It was one thing when there was a simple Halloween style prank, it was another altogether when murder was involved.

  Sonja stood under the darkness of her porch’s awning staring at her van. She was strongly considering heading back to the school on her own.

  She knew she wouldn’t be able to get inside the building, but she could still walk around the grounds and see if she got any tingling sensations. That might be enough.

  Without another moment’s hesitation, she walked to her van and climbed in.

  * * *

  Clouds had rolled in just after sunset, preventing the moon or any stars from letting their light through. The middle school was cast completely in shadows, causing the normal brick structure to appear like a gothic castle. Not a single sign of life graced the building or grounds. If there were any chance for a ghostly encounter, it would be tonight.

  Parking near the front entrance, Sonja turned off the engine and slid out. Besides the shuffle of her own clothing and the soft plod of her footsteps, everything was silent.

  The brown leaves along the grass didn’t even rustle.

  When Sonja first began learning how to use her clairvoyant abilities, she had always thought that some sort of tool or ritual was necessary to create a break in the veil between the worlds of the living and the dead. Now she knew, while sometimes rituals could help, they weren’t always necessary.

  She could simply make her way around the building, feeling the ground beneath her feet and the brick walls to see if there was the potential for spooks.

  She decided to start with the front door and make her way around the building from there. Walking up the steps, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and placed her hand on the thick metal of the doorway.

  Waiting for a moment, she tried to sense anything there, but came up cold.